The book is also plagued by flat-out misinformation (William Shakespeare Hays was black, really??), faulty reasoning, shoddy research, cheap shots left and right, and the most annoying, smart-alecky, and off-putting writing style I think I've ever encountered in a non-fiction book. The author uses profanity as if he earns points for slipping it in at every opportunity. Clearly he thinks by doing so he connects himself to the "underworld" characters he so romanticizes. The result, though, is simply obnoxious. His desire to be smugly hip becomes downright offensive at times. After pointing out Irene Castle's frustration at having to work with the "Topworld" music direction of John Philip Sousa instead of her previous bandleader James Reese Europe, the author concludes that "once you've had black, you never go back."
If you want to read a freewheeling and irreverent dissertation on similar subject matter, check out Nick Tosches's "Where Dead Voices Gather," an infinitely better and more rewarding book. For a level-headed, scholarly, and brilliant account of this material, read Tim Brooks's excellent "Lost Sounds."
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